


Supa Strikas Drabbles

by strikas_and_friends



Category: Supa Strikas (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen, Humor, M/M, More tags to be added in the future, Other, Some angst, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:26:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24466420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strikas_and_friends/pseuds/strikas_and_friends
Summary: Just a collection of Supa Strikas short drabbles/stories I come up with. Some might get requested off from my instagram (same username by the way), or some of them will be ones I come up myself. I might even have some drabbles with my Supa Strikas OCs in them, but I'll make sure to mark which chapters have them or not.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 28





	Supa Strikas Drabbles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This drabble is set after the events of the episode "The Crunch"

It had been a week since Invincible United won the Super League Cup. Another season gone and social media had not given up covering their rivals’ homecoming story. For Coach, this was fine. He knew his team’s winning streak had to come to an end at some point. Even if they hadn’t actually lost to them in the final, Coach already had the sinking feeling his team wouldn’t make it.

Glancing at his watch, the time read five minutes to eight in the evening. He blinked and stood up, pushing some of his papers across his desk while doing so. He walked over to his window overlooking the Supa Strikas home pitch, looking upwards towards the darkening night sky. Small grey clouds crawled across the dark blue canvas, with stars dotting every possible space it could fill on the canvas.

Coach sighed, a small smile on his lips. “At least these are the last of the papers. I can finally go home and take a well-deserved break this off season.” 

With one final stretch of his arms and back, he started to move away from the window and to his desk to pack up. Just as he took a few steps, he heard the sound of an object hitting a metal pole. He looked up and looked over his shoulder at the window, breathing slowly through his nose.

When the noise happened again a few seconds later, Coach immediately turned around and left the room, without his papers or jacket. Instead of making his way towards the security office, he made his way down to the soccer pitch. Once he reached the end of the tunnel, Coach looked around before spotting the source of the noise. A noise he was familiar with during his team’s practices.

At the end of the far field, the young striker, Shakes, was in front of one of the nets. At his feet were several scattered soccer balls. Most of the balls were around or behind the net, while some were just sitting on the corners of the pitch. Not one had made it inside the net.

Unaware of his coach watching him, Shakes wiped the sweat from his forehead and took in a breath and released it. Coach hummed when he saw the striker’s body shaking just a little. 

He moved forward, kicking the soccer ball harder and harder until he was close to the net. With a loud shout, he kicked the ball towards the empty goal with the inside of his foot. The ball soared through the air and over the net, hitting the top of a metal railing just above one of the seating sections.

Shakes let out a loud yell and kicking at the ground, making clumps of dirt and grass fly up. He held his head in his hands and shouted again, not caring who heard his frustrations or who bore witness to his small breakdown.

“I should have done something! Why didn’t I do anything to help him? We all should have done something for him! I just–ARRGH!”

Eyes closed, Shakes ran forward and kicked again, his foot making contact with another stray ball. The ball shot straight towards the goal post, bouncing off at an angle hard, and straight into Shakes’ stomach. The striker held his abdomen as he slowly brought himself to his knees, hunched over in pain.

As he tried to stifle his groans and bit back his tears, the sounds of footsteps coming closer made his head snap up. He looked over to see Coach walking towards him, his face unreadable even under the combination of stadium lights and the moon shining above them. He swallowed back the pain and tried to move and say something, but it made him let out a small gasp and he hunched over further on his one knee. Shakes turned away from Coach and closed his eyes, waiting to hear his familiar angry voice.

But, it never came. Instead, Shakes was helped up by his coach and brought over to the team bench in a matter of seconds. The striker was confused by the quick movements of his coach, but even more confused when Coach sat next to him, hands clasped together. Shakes tried to say something but stopped when he felt the pain rocket up his body from the hit. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

“C-Coach…I–”

“Don’t be sorry for how you’re feeling, Shakes.”

Shakes glanced at Coach, blinking in surprise. “W-What?”

Coach was looking up at the sky, saying nothing with a small smile on his face. He looked over at Shakes and placed a hand on his left shoulder, squeezing it.

“What you’re feeling is normal, especially after a loss like that. But I don’t want your guilt consuming you this off-season Shakes.” Coach removed his hand from his shoulder, looking at the striker over his sunglasses. “What’s done is done.”

The striker stared at his coach before turning to look up at the starry night sky. “What am I supposed to do?” He asked, his voice becoming small as he swallowed another lump down his throat. He felt a few tears leave the corner of his eyes, but he quickly wiped them away. Shakes saw Coach watching him and he turned to face the other side.

“How do I stop feeling this way, Coach? It really hurts.”

The older man did not respond to the striker’s question. Instead, he turned to look up at the sky again, clasping his hands again as the quiet settled between them.  
“Then let it hurt, Shakes. You will be able to move on afterwards.” He said in a soft but deep voice. Shakes felt Coach’s words hit him, as if they had come straight from his heart to his own.

Without warning, Shakes let out the breath he had bene holding onto and leaned against Coach, his weight pushing the other man slightly. He let the tears he had been holding back fall down his face, taking in a shaky breath ever few seconds. Coach didn’t waver from his player’s actions, but he did grasp Shakes’s left shoulder again and squeezed gently once more.

“Take all the time you need. We’ve got plenty of it this off season.”

Shakes sniffled and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. A smile slowly made its way onto his lips and he let out a small laugh.

“Yeah. We do…Thanks Coach.”

“Anytime Shakes. Anytime.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This particular drabble was inspired by a conversation between another Supa Strikas fan and I, discussing the episode The Crunch. Sure, we saw the players be happy for their captain, but not their disappointment and possibly their anger. I wanted to explore that a little bit with Shakes, especially because his face was there every time Rasta was there. I kind of wished they did more with that, honestly.
> 
> Hope you guys like it! I hope I will have more time and inspiration to write more of these drabbles!


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